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onlymorelove · 7 years

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Fic: I Barely Knew I had Skin Before I Met You (3/4)

Title: I Barely Knew I had Skin Before I Met You (3/4) Relationship: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston/Wyatt Logan Summary: Sometimes love is found in unexpected combinations. Lucy wakes in the middle of the night to find one less man than there should be in her bed. Notes: You can read Chapter 1 here. You can read Chapter 2 here. This also takes place in the same universe as Your Hands Can Heal; Your Hands Can Bruise and Baby, I’m a house on fire (and I want to keep burning). These stories are all set sometime in the future, when Lucy, Garcia, and Wyatt are in a polyfidelitous relationship. Translation: the three of them are romantically involved and are faithful to each other. They also live together. Word Count: 4574 Rating: T Chapter Title: Bring your secrets; bring your scars. (From Phillip Phillips' Unpack Your Heart.) Warning: Nothing graphic, but don’t read if you object to the idea of three adults being romantically involved.

Read under the cut, on AO3, or at FF.net.

Tagging @extasiswings, @grey-haven, @gwennieliz, @qqueenofhades, and @uglybusiness. (If anyone else wants to be tagged for future updates, just let me know.)

If you read this, thank you. Feedback is treasured; constructive criticism is welcome.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4]

A Google search for a simple chocolate chip cookie recipe turned up a five-ingredient one Lucy was confident even their sleep-deprived, emotionally-drained threesome could handle. Butter, flour, sugar, eggs, and chocolate chips. Today they’d be eating the sweet and chocolatey breakfast of champions. It would be worth it because all of them still had healing to do, and this, acknowledging Iris Flynn’s birthday, was another tangible step in that process.

She’d just pulled a stick of butter out of the refrigerator and set it out to soften on the kitchen counter behind her when two sets of footsteps sounded—one slow and measured, the other pounding down the stairs at a rapid clip. Garcia and Wyatt rejoined her in the kitchen. Wyatt wore a long-sleeved tee. It had seen better days; the cuffs were frayed, and the shirt clung to Wyatt’s back and shoulders after too many trips through clothes dryer. It was an aesthetic she deeply appreciated.

Lucy tapped Wyatt’s shoulder with her index finger and bumped him with her hip. When he focused on her, she turned a mock pout on him. “Excuse me.” She arched an eyebrow.

Wyatt’s forehead crinkled in consternation, and his eyebrows drew together. “Yeah?”

“I thought we agreed on no shirt.”

“Agreed? Ha. You're a funny woman.” Wyatt smirked. “More like you tried to give me a direct order, and I took it as a suggestion.” He gave an exaggerated shiver, causing her to roll her eyes at his dramatics. “It’s chilly down here, Doc. Besides”—he winked and stepped into her space, his body radiating delicious heat, and wound his arms around her—“I’m still gropeable with clothes on.” His words were followed by his hands, which proceeded to knead the curve of her bottom with gratifying enthusiasm.

Tilting her head to the side, Lucy flashed Garcia a questioning look. “What do you think, Garcia?” She traced nonsensical doodles on Wyatt’s shoulders while she waited for a response.

Flynn leaned back against the counter and crossed one ankle over the other, slanting a considering glance at her and Wyatt. Only a few feet separated them. Amusement flared in the depths of Flynn’s moss-green eyes, chasing away some of the shadows that still lingered there. “I think opening a thoughtfully-wrapped present is half the fun of receiving a present in the first place.”

Though Wyatt’s busy hands stilled, Lucy was grateful he kept his arms looped around her. “So, in this metaphor of yours, am I supposed to be the present?” Wyatt asked. She leaned into him, a cat searching for a good scratch; he responded by running his nails over her back through her thin nightshirt. Pleasure sparked through her, chasing Wyatt’s sure fingers, until Lucy nearly hummed from it.

Garcia’s observant gaze tracked the path Wyatt’s hands traveled over Lucy's back, and his lips ticked upward a millimeter. “You, Wyatt Logan,” he said, sidling closer to them, his voice lit by humor but lacking any sardonic edge, “and all that West Texas charm, are the gift that never stops giving.” He finished with a smacking kiss to Wyatt’s cheek.

“Damn straight,” Wyatt replied. “About time you figured that out.”

Garcia’s full-throated laugh rang through the kitchen. For a second, Lucy forgot her exhaustion. Instead, she focused on the warmth that fizzed in her chest as Garcia bent and kissed them—first tilting Wyatt’s face up with one long finger on his chin—and then her.

Warm lips grazed her temple; strong arms surrounded her. Lucy’s eyes slid shut, and she inhaled deeply. She couldn’t catalogue the individual scents that filled her nose, though she dearly wanted to. Was it Garcia’s deodorant? Wyatt’s skin?

All Lucy knew as she tried to freeze the moment, to preserve it in amber for eternity, was that those scents signified something important to her. Comfort. Them. Home.

“I’ll tell you what, Lucy.” Wyatt nodded and folded his arms over his chest. I’ll make a deal with you.”

The mischievous expression that rolled over Wyatt’s face immediately put her on guard, but she decided to humor him anyway. “Okay…I'm listening. What are your terms?”

“Since you seem oh-so-interested in me being shirtless right now, I’ll agree to that, but—”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“ —only if you take off your shirt, too.”

A beat passed. Lucy blinked rapidly, mouth opening and closing several times, but no words came out. Finally, she reached out and thwacked Wyatt on the forearm. “Wyatt!” Lucy knew both men were very aware that she rarely slept wearing a bra. Though she was pretty comfortable in her own skin at this point in her life, that didn't mean she wanted to bake while topless.

“What?” He cringed away and slung her a look that was all wide-eyed innocence. “You’re not the only feminist here. It’s all in the interest of equality and fair play.”

“I think you mean foreplay,” Garcia chimed in, dark eyebrows raised. He curled an arm across Wyatt’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

“You would take his side.” She narrowed her eyes at him, silently promising Garcia future retribution.

Garcia lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m not taking anybody’s side,” he protested, his eyes doing that twinkly thing that made her insides feel loopy and effervescent.

“Ready, Luce?” said Wyatt. His hands gripped the bottom of his shirt and started inching upward, revealing a sliver of skin at his stomach.

“No. Stop. Let’s all just...keep our shirts on.” How had their morning taken such a turn for the absurd?

Garcia’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. Oh, he might be laughing now, but she would remember this moment and make him pay later.

“Deviants,” she said under her breath.

“Hey! I heard you,” said Wyatt. “Just so you know. That is unfair.” Looking not at all put-out, he wagged his finger at her. “And inaccurate. Yeah. You’re the one who started it. So pot, kettle, black.”

She heaved a gusty sigh. “Fine, Wyatt.” With a shrug, she clapped her hands against her legs. “You win. You’re right.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t hear you.” Wyatt cupped a hand to his ear. “Could you please repeat that?”

Her lips twitched, but she bit back the smile that threatened to appear. She would not encourage his theatrics. “I said, ‘You’re right.’”

“Thank you for admitting that I’m right and you’re wrong.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.” He paused and lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “It's about as rare as a unicorn sighting.” Wyatt and Garcia exchanged telling looks.

It made her skin itch to imagine letting him have the last word. But she would let his very last comment slide. “So I guess we’re equal opportunity perverts.”

“Lucy, there is nothing wrong with appreciating the beauty of the human body.” Garcia rubbed his hands together as if warming up to the current subject. “It is, after all, a marvelous creation.” With his hands tucked into the pockets of his pajama pants, he strolled the length of their small kitchen. Then he reversed direction, ambling back toward them, studying her and Wyatt in turn, an air of deep reflection about him.

Sensing the beginning of a world-class lecture, Lucy caught Wyatt’s gaze and made a face. He grinned and shook his head. “You are such a brat,” he mouthed.

Lucy widened her eyes at Wyatt and casually scratched the corner of her mouth...with her middle finger.

He snickered at the vulgar gesture and shook his head at her antics. Though his mouth didn’t form any words, Lucy easily parsed the naked affection on his face.

“Consider da Vinci’s exploration of geometry and proportion in his Vitruvian Man drawing—”

Wyatt turned toward Garcia. “You mean the naked guy?” He drew a circle in the air. “With the circle around him? And the square?”

Garcia nodded in approval, a wide smile tempering the otherwise severe lines of his face. Lucy instinctively wanted to smile back, though her stomach tightened painfully at the knowledge of how isolated this man, who had become utterly irreplaceable to her, had been for so long, with no one to talk to about his thoughts. No one to share the minutiae of daily life with. No one to ask him, “How was your day?” and care enough to listen with full attention to his answer.

“Yes! Exactly, Wyatt. I wasn’t sure if you'd catch the reference.”

“Always happy to live down to your expectations, Flynn.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to underestimate you. Did I hurt your feelings?”

“Nah. Okay, maybe a little. You can make it up to me.”

Wyatt hooked his fingers in the waistband of Garcia’s pants. “So how about we all get naked. In honor of da Vinci?”

Garcia’s face twisted in a rather quizzical expression. “While I appreciate the sentiment, that is altogether convoluted logic, Logan.”

As much as she appreciated their good-natured banter, she knew they had gotten sidetracked from their original objective. She rolled her eyes and yanked Wyatt’s hand away from Garcia. “For the love of... Listen, we’ve gotten completely distracted. We are supposed to be baking.” She clamped one hand over Wyatt’s mouth and one over Garcia’s. “And no, don’t even say it: We are not going to be doing naked baking.”

Bracketing a hand around her wrist, Garcia tugged her hand away from his mouth. “Half-naked, to be precise,” Garcia said, eyebrow quirked. He gave her fingers a playful nip before releasing them.

Wyatt and Garcia both laughed, deep smile lines radiating out from the corners of their eyes like little sunbursts. The combined effect dazzled Lucy with its radiance. Her breath stuttered in her chest. A second later she blinked, and the spell was broken. “Oh my god,” she said, recovering her voice. “Please, I beg you, both of you. Just forget I said anything about being shirtless.”

“So what'll it be, boys? Dark or milk chocolate chips?”

“Milk,” said Wyatt.

“Dark,” said Garcia.

“But Lucy,” Wyatt said, tugging at her sleeve, “dark chocolate’s gross. It’s too bitter.”

Garcia aimed a scathing look in Wyatt's direction. “No, you're mistaken: milk chocolate is too sweet. Too cloying. Too much of a good thing. In dark chocolate, however, the sweetness is balanced by the hint of bitterness. Balance, Wyatt.” He made an expansive, sweeping gesture with his arms. “In all things, seek balance.”

“Yeah, okay, Jedi Master Flynn.”

A startled laugh flew from Lucy’s mouth. When Garcia cut her a glare to rival Medusa’s stony stare, the laugh morphed into a cough. “Okay, well then.” She cleared her throat. “We’ll compromise and do half and half,” she said, her tone placating. “Happy now?”

“No,” Garcia and Wyatt replied in unison.

Lucy smiled.

“Here,” Lucy said, and handed Garcia a worn wooden spoon. Their fingers brushed during the exchange, and they shared a glance, neither speaking. Gentle heat spread from that point of contact, eventually settling in Lucy’s cheeks. She curled her hand around Garcia’s upper arm. “Make good use of those muscles and beat the flour and sugar together.”

“Whatever you say...ma’am,” Garcia said, a hint of mischief glimmering in his smile as he applied himself to the task she'd set for him.

“Uh uh. No way.” Lucy folded her arms across her chest and shook her head decisively. “I refuse to have you both call me that.”

He nodded in acquiescence, hair slipping over his forehead. “Then I will have to think of something else.”

“Anything but ‘ma’am.’”

Garcia continued stirring, eyes distant, expression thoughtful. The spoon tapped the edges of the steel mixing bowl with every turn and made a dull clanging sound. “Yes.” He looked at her with a half-smile, then nodded. “Whatever you say, dušo moja.” His voice altered on the unfamiliar words, deepening, the tenderness in the foreign syllables nearly tactile. A brush of velvet against her skin...

“What does that mean?”

His gaze flicked away from hers. “Perhaps I’ll tell you...someday.”

To her surprise, Lucy swore she saw a hint of pink in his cheeks.

“Garcia…” She knew she sounded whiny, but she didn't care. “Tell me now.”

He paused in his stirring to pat her hip. “Patience is a virtue, Lucy.”

An unfortunate side effect of intimacy was that they all knew a thousand and one ways to infuriate each other. “Patience is a virtue, Lucy,” she retorted, mimicking him.

He smiled broadly, brushing the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “Insolence will get you nowhere.”

Wyatt sniggered; Lucy kept her features blank but added him and Garcia to her mental shit list.

“Hey, I’ve got muscles, too.” Wyatt flexed his right arm, grabbed Lucy’s hand, and placed it on his biceps. “Check out these guns.”

“Very impressive,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to Wyatt’s mouth.

“Don’t think I can’t tell you’re humoring me.” “I’m not humoring you, Wyatt.” “Are too.” “You’re right: I am.”

“Your honesty is killing me, Lucy.”

“My honesty is one of my finest qualities.” His eyebrows quirked in confusion. “You have qualities?”

“Smartass. Just for that, you get to take the cookie sheets, and everything else, out of the oven. Then preheat it to 350.”

Wyatt opened the oven door, bending to retrieve the items stored inside that black hole of kitchenware. “Holy shit.” When he stood up, his hands held a mountain of baking sheets, muffin tins, wire cooling racks. Moving slowly so as not to drop anything, he stepped to the right and placed everything on the small square of counter space next to the stove. That done, he turned to look at her reproachfully.

“Don’t you look at me like that.”

He sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “Lucy, you promised us you’d organize this crap.”

She swallowed, feeling a little guilty. Okay, a lot guilty. Her packrat tendencies and general messiness were a sore point between the three of them. “I meant to...I mean I will…” She wrung her hands. “It’s just, we don’t have space for it all.”

“Exactly. So get rid of some of it. Donate it.”

“But I need it.”

“You need all of it?” Wyatt shot back, skepticism evident in his voice.

“Well…”

Lucy’s attention shifted as her eyes caught movement. The wire rack that had been perched at the summit of the mountain of items Wyatt had just hauled out of the oven, crashed to the floor. “Oh no!”

The three of them leapt to catch the remaining objects before they went the way of the rack. A few items still clattered to the ground in a cacophony of sound, but they were able to salvage most of the stuff. Disaster thus mostly averted, Wyatt and Garcia simply looked at her, irritation so clear on their faces that they didn’t have to say anything.

She deserved that; she’d attempt to be graceful. Lucy gave a sheepish shrug. “Um...Sorry?”

“OK, Wyatt, now it’s your turn. You add the egg and mix it up completely,” Lucy said.

She checked the recipe on her phone, then pulled a canister out of the freezer. “Garcia,”—she pointed at the canister—“we need 1 and a ¼ cups of flour. Don’t pack it too tightly, and level it with a dinner knife.”

Garcia rummaged in a lower cabinet, then stood up, holding a glass measuring cup.

Wyatt cracked a large egg on the edge of the mixing bowl and poured its contents in. He walked to the trash can and tossed the broken shell pieces in there. “So tell us something about your daughter,” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “What was she like?”

Lucy pulled a container of salt from the pantry and brought it to the counter, eyeing Garcia without comment. Would he answer Wyatt’s question? Garcia froze in the act of pulling a spoon from the cutlery drawer, blinking rapidly. Pin-drop silence surrounded them. “She...I…” He sighed and shook his head, hand trembling as he dropped the spoon in the measuring cup and closed the drawer with a soft click.

Something inside Lucy twisted. “We could take turns. Share one memory—talk about our...Talk about the people we’ve lost.” She slid her hand over Garcia’s, squeezing gently. “Um. I’ll go first.” She released his hand and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. A deep breath. She could do this. “Amy is...I mean...Amy was…” A laugh escaped her lips, and Lucy cringed at her own nervous behavior. “Wow, this is hard.” She stared down at the counter in front of her, vision blurring, until an arm closed around her shoulders.

When she looked up, blinking back tears, she discovered that it was Garcia who’d wound his arm around her. His eyes met hers unflinchingly, and the silent compassion she saw there gave her the strength to continue. She closed her hands into fists, then concentrated on loosening them slowly. “Amy’s seven years younger than me. When she was little, Mom would put her in my lap, and I’d read to her. I’ve always loved books, and my parents, they fed that love. So we had a ton of books at home. At first, I used to decide what to read to Amy. But when she got to be two, maybe three-years-old, she started pulling books off the shelf and bringing them to me to read.

“She loved this series of books about a giant dog. Clifford the Big Red Dog. He was twenty-some feet tall, and...Anyway, at one point, her absolute favorite book was Clifford’s Kitten.” An ache started in Lucy’s chest; she pushed it away and continued. “I think I read it to her every day for like a month straight; I basically had it memorized. I got so sick of that damn book, but Amy would bring me that book, plop down in my lap, and say, ‘Read.’”

The ache increased, widening its geography, and stretched to her throat. There it sat, like a malignant growth. Lucy shook her head, once, clutching the locket that still cradled her sister’s picture, and allowed Garcia to fold her in his arms. Eyes shut tight, she pressed her cheek to his chest until the ache receded enough that she could breathe freely again.

After they put the cookies in the oven to bake, Lucy set a timer for nine minutes. Turning to Wyatt and Garcia, she took them each by the hand and pulled them to the living room. “Let’s sit while we wait for the cookies to bake.”

Lucy snuggled into one corner of the larger sofa; Wyatt claimed the other one. Though Garcia moved to sit on the small sofa adjacent to the one they sat on, Wyatt shook his head and motioned him closer. “Sit here,” he said, patting the empty spot between him and Lucy. Garcia perched on the edge of the sofa. Wyatt sighed in exasperation. “Like this, genius,” he said, and pulled Garcia down until he lay flat on his back with his head in Wyatt’s lap. They must have made a comical picture. Garcia was so tall that his butt pressed against Lucy’s hip, and his legs bent, bridging her lap, his feet tucked next to her other leg.

Lucy smiled, watching Wyatt card his fingers through Garcia’s dark hair. She knew just how hypnotic that resulting sensation could be, given that Wyatt had done the same to her earlier that morning.

Careful to keep her touch gentle, Lucy worked her hand under the hem of Garcia’s sweats and pressed her fingertips into his calf. Garcia sighed, and Lucy’s smile widened.

“If you keep doing that, I’ll fall asleep,” Garcia murmured, eyes closed, voice curling in the air like a wisp of smoke.

Wyatt chuckled, then stopped abruptly. Lucy turned her head to look at him, curious. His hand continued to glide through Garcia’s hair. “Jessica loved to knit, especially when I was deployed. She said…” He cleared his throat. “She said it helped, especially when she missed me, knowing that she could fill a need for someone else. She had needles in all different sizes, and she made all kinds of stuff—scarves for soldiers and vets; blankets for homeless shelters; little hats for newborns at the hospital.

“I think she was always working on a half dozen projects at a time.” He smiled, and it was just a little one, but it was real. Then the smile seeped away, and his hand stilled in Garcia’s hair. “After she was killed, I was sitting on the couch one night, just nursing a beer, and I felt something poke me. It was one of her knitting needles, sticking out from between the cushions. I went a little crazy then. Threw out all her stuff. Her knitting needles, her half-finished charity projects, her huge stash of yarn. All of it. I wish...Now...I wish that I hadn’t done that.”

Lucy’s eyes met Garcia’s; he laced his fingers together with Wyatt’s and laid them over his heart.

Silence reigned until the kitchen timer buzzed.

Once the cookies had cooled, Lucy scooped them all onto a pretty platter and set them in the middle of the dining table.

Wyatt grabbed one and raised it to his mouth.

Lucy snatched it away from him and put it back on the platter.

“Why’d you do that? You promised me chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, Lucy.”

“I did. But not until we sing ‘Happy Birthday.’ Let me see if I can find a candle.” After rummaging around in various cabinets and drawers, Lucy finally found one in the junk drawer. “A-ha!” she said, holding it up in triumph. She also found a pack of matches in the same drawer.

“How many candles are there in total, Lucy?” said Garcia.

“Let me look… I see three. How come?”

“Oh. Well, I was thinking, maybe we could light one in honor of each person we’ve...lost. But if there are only three…” His voice trailed off.

Lucy nodded. “I think that’s a lovely idea. We’ve only got three candles, but we’ll light all three. It’s supposed to be the thought that counts.” She couldn’t very well stick the candles in a cookie, so she grabbed a small bowl, filled it with salt, and placed the candles, one red, one blue, and one purple, in there until they were all standing, albeit a bit crookedly. She stepped back, tilting her head to admire her handiwork. It wasn’t perfect, but the effect was charming. Somehow it worked—just like their patchwork family.

“Here,” Lucy said, handing the matchbook to Garcia. “Why don’t you light the first one?”

Garcia accepted the matches with a nod. He tore off one match and drew it across the striker. The odor of sulfur hovered in the air as the match head flared to life, glowing brightly in his hand. He held it to one candle wick until the flame caught. With a brisk shake of his hand, he put out the lit match and handed the matchbook back to Lucy.

She did as Garcia had moments before, and when her candle flame flickered merrily, she passed the matchbook to Wyatt.

When all three candles were lit, Lucy reached for both Wyatt and Garcia’s hands. She started the song. “Happy Birthday to you,” she sang, and if her voice was a little shaky, no one commented on it. Two baritones joined her on the next line. “Happy Birthday, dear Iris. Happy Birthday to you.”

They all seemed to hold their breath as the last few notes hung in the air, fading by slow degrees even as the trio of flames still danced.

“Why don’t you blow them all out for us?” Lucy whispered, face turned toward Garcia, loath to disturb the fragile peace that encompassed them.

“Do you mind?” Garcia asked. His eyes lingered on Wyatt, not Lucy.

“Not at all. You do it.” The candlelight reflected in Wyatt’s eyes. “Please,” he added.

With a silent nod, Garcia closed his eyes. After perhaps a minute, he opened them again, then leaned forward and blew out all three candles.

Lucy released both men’s hands, smiling when Wyatt seized four cookies, two in each hand.

He bit into one cookie. “Oh my god,” he said, eyes fluttering shut. “These are so fucking so good.” He groaned, the sound simultaneously filthy and exquisite. “Guys, I think we’re going to need to bake about three dozen more.”

Lucy snatched one cookie out of Wyatt’s hand, quickly taking a nibble before he could protest.

“Hey, no stealing! That was mine.”

She munched on her cookie until she realized Garcia was standing there, silent and cookie-less. “Don’t you want one?” she said.

“In a minute. First, I wanted to say thank you. Both of you. For all this. For being you. For putting up with me. I know I can be...difficult.” Wyatt snorted. “Massive understatement there.”

Lucy used her free hand to swat him on the butt.

“I’m a prickly bastard, aren’t I?” said Garcia.

Wyatt lips curled up in a megawatt grin that could have melted a glacier. He winked and tossed Garcia a wry look that clearly said, “You don’t actually want me to answer that, do you?”

Garcia laughed, long and hard. When he finally quieted, he pulled out a chair and sat down. His hands came to rest on the table in front of him, fingers threaded together tightly. “I should probably talk about Iris now. You both shared a memory. I should do the same.” Lucy brushed her hands together, clearing off cookie crumbs, then squeezed Garcia’s shoulder. “There is no ‘should.’ You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“The thing is, I think...I think maybe I want to. Perhaps it’s time.”

“Then we’ll listen,” Lucy replied.

“I don’t believe in God anymore, but...” His voice trailed off. “My daughter, she...” He paused again to clear his throat. “My daughter was magical. To me. To my wife. And she believed in magic—fairies, mermaids, dragons, and all those mystical things we adults sneer at. There’s this drawing she did for me years ago. A drawing of three mermaids. I’ve carried it with me, in my wallet, all this time, everywhere I’ve gone. After every horrible thing that I’ve done, I’ve taken out that tattered drawing and looked at it, reminding myself why I had to do those things. And for what? I’ve paid my pound of flesh—and then some. And for what?

“Do you know she wanted to change her name?” he said, abruptly changing topics.

He laughed quietly, and the sound hurt Lucy because it echoed with the vast ocean of longing, grief, and dusty dreams that each one of them held for their dead loved ones.

“She wanted to change her name to Arabella Sweetwater,” Garcia continued. “That, according to Iris, was a name fit for a mermaid like herself. We promised her, Lorena and I, that if she still wanted to change her name when she grew up, she could do so. She's never going to grow up, though is she?”

Neither Lucy nor Wyatt answered, recognizing the question was rhetorical.

“She's gone. Really gone. They both are. And the part that scares me the most, is that I think I’m starting to move on. Wyatt...Lucy... I don’t want to give them up. I don’t want to forget them.”

“Oh, Garcia,” Lucy said. “You don’t have to forget them. Neither of us would ask you to do that.”

Author’s Note: So, I think these guys had more to say than I initially expected. That means there will be one more part after this, and then we should be done. The last bit will be short.

#garcyatt #nbc timeless #lucy preston #garcia flynn #wyatt logan #ot3 #garcia x lucy x wyatt #polyshipping day #timeless fanfiction #poly fic #polyshipping #you can pry this ship from my cold dead hands #my fic #ibkihsbimy #onlymorelove writes fic #garcyatt fic

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

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Wedded Bliss and Asterisks (A Modern CS AU) Part 14/?

Emma Swan is an enemy of love who just happens to be an up and coming wedding dress designer. She’s convinced that a fairytale kind of romance is nowhere in her future but when she meets Killian Jones, whose magazine is covering the opening of her new boutique, things change. Suddenly Emma finds herself drawing up new plans for her life, ones that seem to all be leading towards her own form of wedded bliss. Rated M.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven.Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen. Also on FF Here.

A/N: So this chapter is accomplishing two things I desperately wanted for this fic. It’s letting Emma and Killian linger a little longer in that flufftastic first ‘I love you’ phase and it will be getting some more closure for two other couples, one more obvious than the other. I think you guys can all guess which one I am most talking about... Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy what is literally just a chapter of cuteness and smuff. Thanks for reading!

“I love you, Emma.”

Those precious words had been playing in Emma’s mind on a near loop since the moment Killian said them last night, and with a full day gone since that moment (spent almost entirely in the arms of the man who loved her) Emma was amazed at how much she was still feeling. There was no coming down from this high that spoken love brought, and even as she dozed in Killian’s room, recouping after a sleepless night and a lazy Sunday spent together in bed, Emma felt that same undeniable warmth of his words and his promise. They were in this together and they were going to figure it all out side by side no matter what came next.

To be honest though, Emma had kind of been hoping for a bit more of the whole lounging in bed thing. This weekend had been wonderful. Between the beautiful wedding and everything else Emma knew it was one of the best (if not the single greatest) she had ever known. But Monday was growing ever closer and responsibilities would come knocking once more in only a mater of hours. As such Emma felt this need to savor every moment they did have and to enjoy this precious spell of time to the fullest before the real world came calling again.

With that objective in mind, Emma slipped out of bed and threw on one of Killian’s shirts as she set out to find him. In this spacious apartment there were a number of places he could be, but she didn’t have to try too hard to locate him when the wafting scent of dinner hit her nose and she heard a faint murmuring coming from the kitchen. Emma expected to find Killian singing along to some song or other as he cooked for the two of them (something he was prone to doing), but as she got closer she realized he wasn’t singing but talking.

“Alright brother, enough evasion. You want to tell me you called six times in two hours to ask about a wedding for two people you don’t know? I’m not buying it. So just be out with it.”

Emma stilled right before the doorway when she heard those remarks and she let herself wrap her mind around what Killian had just said. Clearly he was talking to Liam, but what was this about six phone calls? And why exactly was Liam so interested in the nuptials of Aladdin and Jasmine? Even as she asked herself those questions, Emma knew the answer: Elsa.

“What’s wrong with me being interested? Emma mentioned it a number of times at dinner. Obviously it was important to her…”

Emma hadn’t expected the call to be on speaker and for her to be able to hear the full depths of this conversation, but she smiled despite herself. Liam was totally lying right now about being interested because of her. He knew that Elsa was making the cake for this wedding and that if Emma was going her friend would be in attendance too. The line of thinking was so transparent and in a way it reassured Emma. Liam definitely had it bad if he was dogging his brother for details.

“You mean it was important to Elsa,” Killian finished and Emma muffled a laugh, loving that the two of them were on the same page with Liam’s denials. She could just picture Killian’s expression right now and it was toeing the line between frustration at Liam’s stalling and humor from his brother being caught up in anyone at all.

“I didn’t say that,” Liam said but it wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

“Didn’t have to,” Killian replied and Emma could hear him moving about the kitchen.

Without thinking she moved into the doorway and leaned against it, watching Killian work to make them some elaborate meal that was totally unnecessary but also very sweet. Emma didn’t announce herself though, instead choosing to enjoy the view of her hot, shirtless boyfriend cooking for her and the interesting conversation being had. Maybe she should feel guilty for that, but she couldn’t seem to muster such a sentiment. All of this was just going to get back to her anyway. Killian never kept anything from her and that thought made her already present smile grow bigger.

“Well now that you’ve mentioned it… how was she?” Liam asked and Emma rolled her eyes. Whoever said men were more straightforward than woman was full of shit. It seemed everyone was prone to these moments of infatuation-induced lunacy.

“From what I saw fine, but her date might have had a better gauge on her feelings.”

“She brought someone?!” Liam bellowed and Emma made a surprised sound that instantly had Killian looking up at her. It wasn’t a look of surprise though and Emma began to realize that she might not have been as sneaky as he thought. Nevertheless Killian smiled and then pressed a finger to his lips in a signal for her to keep quiet as he continued on with his brother.

“What are you doing with her, Liam?” Killian asked bluntly.

“Excuse me?” Liam countered, sounding more frenzied than he probably wanted to. Emma took it as a good sign, however. From everything Killian had said, Liam was never thrown out of whack. He must really like Elsa for a response like this to manifest.

“What are your intentions with Elsa?” Killian specified and Emma felt her heart clench. She knew he was asking both for her peace of mind and for Elsa’s and Emma appreciated that so much. This was his brother he was interrogating, but Killian wasn’t afraid to ask the hard questions and in doing so he proved that loyalty Emma always knew was there between them.

“I hardly think that’s -,” Killian interrupted Liam before he could rebuff him.

“She saw a photo of you and one of your matches in the paper, Liam. She saw it and now she’s second-guessing everything. Honestly if Emma hadn’t been there to give her some sort of guidance, you might have lost Elsa completely already.” They heard a string of curses through the phone but Killian ignored them and pressed on. “You have to tell her, Liam. If you want a chance with her you’ve got to come clean. Assuming you’re choosing her over the others.”

“There’s no choice to make. I told Diana that on Thursday. There’s only Elsa. She’s all I see,” Liam asserted. Meanwhile Killian mouthed ‘matchmaker’ to Emma and she nodded, understanding that Liam had totally severed ties with that hair-brained idea and that he’d done it for her friend. It was incredibly touching to hear, and though it was an odd situation, Emma did believe Elsa would understand or that she could be made to understand if Liam went about this the right way.

“Right. So get your head out of your ass and tell her how you feel. It’s that simple.”

Emma grinned at that and moved around the kitchen counter to step into his arms, wrapping herself up in Killian and enjoying the fact that they’d both finally been able to do that with each other. It was this huge step for her, giving those three words to a guy when she’d never really meant them before, but it was right with Killian and Emma also knew she’d never live to regret it. Hopefully Liam could find his courage and make a move so Elsa got even the chance to consider where she stood with Killian’s brother.

“Ha! Simple? This woman is anything but simple. She’s – she’s…” Emma was pretty interested in this part. She wanted that kind of window into exactly what Liam thought of her best friend, but Killian had other ideas, showing his brother mercy and letting him keep his precious thoughts to himself.

“Not susceptible to your usual routine of bossing people around or throwing money at them, aye I gathered that. So find another way.”

Liam muttered something about not having a ‘bloody compass’ when it came to this whole thing and Emma imagined he meant love in general. He wasn’t wrong though. There was no map to getting to a happy ending, and half the fear and worry that Emma had felt since meeting Killian was centered on not being able to see exactly what was coming. The comfort of knowing the way life would turn out was compromised when you risked your heart, but if you found the right person there was no need to worry. Emma knew that now with Killian and she hoped that Liam and Elsa, if all things worked out, could get to a similar space of trust and faith in each other.

“If that’ll be all brother, I’ve got my own life to get back to.”

“You mean your own woman,” Liam replied in an almost grumpy way.

“Aye, I do. So I’ll leave you to finding your path to your own happiness and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The brothers said their goodbyes then, and when Killian hung up the call, Emma found herself laughing against him. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly why except that she was happy. Happy for her own situation with Killian, happy for Elsa who was no doubt in store for some kind of romantic attention for Liam, and happy for the fact that things were going so well in her life.

It was really amazing to think how much had changed. It was like one day she’d been this ordinary person living the life she thought she wanted but it wasn’t really clear. Looking back now those memories almost seemed out of focus. She’d had a lot going for her: great friends, the career she always dreamed of, and a rent controlled apartment in Manhattan. But she hadn’t been living in full color yet and to get there she’d needed love, and she’d needed it from Killian.

“Nothing in the world can compare to that sound, Swan,” Killian mused as one of his hands ran over her lower back soothingly and the other came to tilt her head back up to him. The smile gracing his handsome face was so warm and full of unspoken emotion but Emma knew what they all were now and she wasn’t scared of them in the slightest.

“Lucky then that your brother is so funny,” Emma said purposely teasing Killian. “You’ll probably get to hear it a lot because of him.”

Killian reacted exactly the way Emma expected, which was to say with a low growl and a shift of their positions so she was boxed in against the counter and the hard lines of his body were pressed against hers. She heated at the shift in his demeanor, but even if he was all fired up from her words, that love in his eyes remained. Truthfully it never left Killian’s presence, Emma just had the benefit of knowing that was for sure what it was now.

“I know you’re toying with me Emma, but rest assured I have every intention to keep that smile on your face and that laugh of yours coming for a very long time.”

The words, powerful as they were, elicited their desired reaction and Emma smiled at him again, watching Killian simultaneously calm and grow more desperate for her. Emma could feel this growing need between them, but she also saw his appreciation of being on the receiving end of her smile. Never in her life had Emma felt so cherished and so wanted, but with Killian there was no doubt of that. He treated a simple smile like this spectacular gift, and Emma wanted to give him a million more so he could be as happy as she felt right now.

“Well making dinner like this is definitely a good place to start…” Emma said, looking back to all that he’d managed to make for the two of them but she was surprised by Killian’s low laugh. She turned back to him finding his grin ticked up to one side and making him look even more attractive than he’d been just a second ago. She also felt the heat radiating off of him and she instinctively knew that his mind had shifted from one kind of appetite to another and that sudden flash of awareness rushed through her and set her body on fire in the most delicious way.

“We’ll have to hope it keeps, love,” Killian said in a low, taunting voice. “Because I’ve got a rather different taste to satisfy right now and I can promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Emma swallowed harshly, her hands grasping at his chest and earning her another growl. She looked into Killian’s cerulean eyes and saw nothing held back at all. He was all in, all hers, and that filled her with this sense of unwavering want. The next thing she knew his lips were on hers and Emma was arching into him and totally forgetting about anything but this. She expected them to go further right here, but with gruff whispers Killian told her he wanted her back in bed and she wasn’t going to say no to that. They made their way between continued stolen kisses back to where they’d spent most of today and Emma was so riled up she could hardly stand it.

“Much as I love seeing you in my shirt Swan, take it off.”

To call it a request on Killian’s part would be generous, but the command made a huge impact, shooting right to Emma’s core and making her want even more. She immediately responded by indulging him and then felt that same flush of pride that came every time Killian’s eyes were on her. He looked at her like she was perfect, and she believed that she could be. Emma was willing to believe his constant praise when she had his love as the proof. Besides, she found the same kind of perfection in him too and as they’d both already attested, they were in this together. It was only fair that they should both feel this overwhelming need mutually between them.

“If we’re not careful we’ll make this whole dessert before dinner thing a habit,” Emma said as she lay back on the bed and Killian came over her with a mix of grace and raw sensual appeal. Killian flashed that almost wicked look that told her he had a million dirty thoughts running through his mind all designed to pull every last ounce of pleasure for her. She could hardly wait for him to deliver on that, but it would be worth whatever wait would come to be with him.

“That’s hardly a threat when the result is this desirable.”

His voice dripped with raw sex and Emma shivered from those words and then the rough kiss he bestowed on her lips. She was lost in this and in him and then the feel of his hand sliding over her skin. Nothing should feel this new or vibrant when they’d come together so many times already, but the sensations were electrifying and scalding all in one. Emma was familiar with different triggers that made her need spring tight, like the rough scratch of his beard against her skin, or the way Killian’s hands walked that tight rope between a firm hold and reverent worship, but every time Emma succumbed at the same swift pace.

There was no fighting off the onslaught of feelings, and Emma would never dream to do so. Instead she gave way to it and gave into what Killian wanted – her telling him her every need and letting him know when he’d gotten it just right.

“God, Killian, right there,” she panted out when his mouth came to her breast as his hand moved between her legs. The dual stimulation was heady and almost too much, but Killian’s throaty chuckle told her he’d take her so much further and that she’d love every second of it. “Fuck that’s so good.”

“You might very well be insatiable Swan, needing me like this after the day we’ve had, but I’ll take that as a challenge.”

Emma murmured about his loving a challenge before totally losing her words all together. All she could do was close her eyes and hold on, feeling so on edge until he finally let her come apart by his hand. When she’d just started to breathe again he was moving lower, his kisses taunting over her every curve before he settled between her legs and reminded her of his prowess all over again. It was blindingly brilliant and totally hot and Emma tried to ride out every wave of pleasure that the feel of his tongue at her sex brought out and that every nip and suck pulled forth. Soon enough she was crashing again, and the only way she could get this impossibly talented and determined man to come back to her was to practically beg for him to do so. She was aware of her limits, and she might actually die from bliss with much more of his mouth on her.

When he was back above her again, his eyes hot and molten with desire, Emma knew instinctively that he was about to say something. It would likely be incredibly dirty and fantastic, but she had to say something first. She felt this need to remind him of exactly where they stood.

“I love you, Killian.”

Whatever had been on his mind before was gone and Killian reacted to her promise with ones of his own, whispered over and over again as he took her with this forceful kind of love that fed every need Emma had. It was only a matter of time before they fell apart together and when they did, lying there spent together, Emma closed her eyes and tried to capture this moment. It was just too good, she reasoned, to ever be forgotten, and she didn’t come back to until she felt Killian’s hand come brush against her cheek. Her eyes opened then and she readied herself for whatever was coming.

“You’re everything to me, Emma. Every last good thing in my world comes back to you. I wish I could explain it any other way, but there it is.”

“I think that was pretty good actually,” Emma whispered before kissing him again and making a similar vow. And with that, the two of them went and had that dinner they’d skipped and tried to soak up every last second they still had left before returning to the real world once more.

…………

It took a fair amount of effort on Killian’s part to not stare at the clock and will time to fly faster this morning, and honestly the only reason he was even remotely successful was because there were a million things going on at Citizen NY. He couldn’t go two minutes without someone knocking on his door and presenting a new issue or something for him to sign off on, and Killian appreciated the busy work and the problem solving that was needed. If there had been any less call on his time today he’d be in real danger of saying screw it and finding Emma earlier than their agreed upon time.

As it was they were meeting for lunch in a half an hour, and he’d seen Emma just last night after a weekend of certifiable bliss, but it felt like a lifetime. The time without her moved too slow and his home held no comforts without Emma there. Everywhere he looked the memory of her lingered and he found himself frustrated with the fact that they needed any space between them at all. Yes they had their own lives and careers, but it was a cruel twist of fate for him to hear Emma say that she loved him one night and then the next for her to leave.

Despite his grievances about their separation, Killian couldn’t help but grin at the thought of what they’d shared this weekend. His love for Emma had been a part of him for what felt like so long, but to finally know that it was reciprocated… well nothing had ever compared to it. No victory had ever tasted as sweet as winning Emma’s heart, and now there was this never ceasing flow of adrenaline coursing through him. Killian could conquer anything in this state, except for the anxiety that came from Emma being away from him too long. He was just lucky she’d said yes to lunch. He hated to think where he’d be if she’d been too busy.

After a few minutes of quiet in his office, however, Killian’s restlessness got the best of him, and though it would take a maximum of ten minutes to get to Bliss Boutique, he found himself grabbing a jacket and heading for the door. When he opened it though, he stumbled upon a bit of a roadblock in the form of his best mate flirting with the girl he’d finally had the courage to ask out. Will looked plenty pleased with himself right now, and Belle for her part was very receptive though perhaps a little cooler that Will was. Killian supposed he should be happy at least one of them had a care for their being in the work place and in the middle of the hallway to boot.

“So this is how it’s going to be then?” Killian joked, bringing both their attention his way and causing a tutting sound to come from Tink. Killian cast a glance at his assistant who seemed put out now. She was a very big fan of the budding office romance, and she clearly did not appreciate the interruption. “Flirting on company time, and just in front of the boss’ office no less.”

“Oh come on mate, you know you ship it. Hell you were the one who pushed me to action in the first place,” Will proclaimed jovially. Killian understood the last part of Will’s sentence but the first part went right over his head.

“What’s a ship got to do with anything?” he asked and Belle chuckled lightly.

“Sorry that’s on me. I’ve got that piece going on Comic Con and clearly I’ve been sharing the lingo a little too much,” she said but her smile directed at Will was more pleased than anything else.

Killian would have accepted that as an adequate answer and left well enough alone but then Will started prattling on about how Killian was the original shipper and how apparently his investment in Will’s happiness made him a fanboy or the head of a fandom or something or other. Killian didn’t bother trying to track the logic after a certain point, but he did smile when Tink made a joke about t-shirts and a couple name. His assistant was obviously exaggerating, but her delivery was so sincere that Will’s teasing started to shift to discomfort before Tink gave herself away as only kidding.

“Alright you’ve made your point. A little less office-oriented romance or everyone’s liable to get carried away,” Will said, straightening up and trying to appear all business. Meanwhile Belle took one look at him and laughed, no doubt seeing he was totally full of it.

“Oh you know what?” Tink asked. “You guys should go on a double date! That would be adorable!”

“Adorable is a strong word,” Killian countered, but then he thought of Emma’s reaction to seeing Belle and Will in this current state of new found happiness and he wondered if it wasn’t that bad an idea. Emma had really taken to Belle when meeting her before and she’d also enjoyed Will in the times she’d come here to the office. Maybe it would work and prove an enjoyable time. “But then again, why deny Emma the chance to make heads or tails of this ship herself?”

Killian’s words were probably used incorrectly based on Belle’s barked out laugh and Tink’s even wider smile, but he didn’t care and he would made sure to ask Emma her thoughts about this scheme at lunch. Without giving much more excuse Killian departed, leaving them all there staring after him and no doubt musing about his love life. He was fine with them talking though, and he imagined that someday they’d get used to this as the new normal. For as long as Killian had Emma in his life he anticipated things being similarly light and his priorities remaining with her over his old tendency to work, work, work.

After getting out of the office building, Killian moved with purpose towards Emma and he managed to make a quick stop though at the flower vendor just near her shop. In the past he’d gone with the single rose to brighten Emma’s day when he picked her up for such dates, but today he decided to go for something grander. He procured the brightest bouquet he could find (that still paled in comparison to Emma) and then he felt better equipped to find his Swan once more.

As expected, Killian eventually located her in the far end of the showroom, caught up in the hustle and bustle of her day. He’d arrived early in part for this chance to see Emma fully immersed in her work, and Killian was glad for the fact that at first she didn’t notice him. It gave him the ability to take her in in all her splendor, with her hair tied back in a messy bun and clipped together with one of her favorite sketching pencils. She was donning her glasses that only ever made an appearance when she was reading or designing and the sleek, modern cut of the floral dress she’d worn today gave her that final flare of perfect professionalism. Emma was a vision to say the least, and an ever capable one at that.

Killian got the chance to watch her with some of the seamstresses on staff here, giving comment about the exact detailing on the dress before them. It was a stunning creation as all of Emma’s works were, but where Killian saw nothing that needed fixing, Emma’s eyes were trained carefully on the gown seeking out any potential flaws. Her perfectionist tendencies reared their head in this moment, but there was nothing unattractive in her tenacity. On the contrary, Killian was always taken with just how passionate Emma was about creating things that were as close to flawless as they could be. He treated each issue of his magazine the same way, and that drive wasn’t something many people understood but Emma certainty did.

“Let’s go back over some of this beading with one more layer of threading. It needs to be a bit more secure so we can add the sash without any fuss. And maybe with these layers here just the slightest trim. I’m sure the measurements are perfect to what I wrote before, I just think it might -,”

“Add a little more volume?” The older woman Emma was working with asked and Emma smiled warmly at the interruption.

“Exactly. This is definitely a dress for dancing and I think it could elevate it that much more to have a little more bounce.”

“I’ll get right on it,” the woman assured her and Emma thanked her before looking up and finding Killian standing there. Killian anticipated a level of surprise when she discovered him but there was none in Emma’s expression. Instead there was a knowing look that told Killian his presence might not have gone undetected as he once assumed and he smiled back at her, eager to have Emma in his arms again.

“You’re truly a genius, love,” Killian offered when Emma came over to greet him with a kiss and accepted the flowers he’d brought for her. When she took them in hand, Killian watched a blush spread across her cheeks. All this time together and Emma could still get overwhelmed with something he saw as the smallest gesture.

“And you are a life saver,” Emma admitted, pulling Killian with her as she found a vase for the flowers and put them in her office.

“Has my gift some powers of revival I’m unaware of?” Killian asked and Emma smiled, shaking her head.

“No, but you do. I’ve been going a little stir crazy today. It was hard to say goodbye to this weekend,” Emma confessed and Killian moved closer to her, thankful for the fact that she’d closed the office door and he had a bit more freedom to be close to her again.

“I know the feeling, love, and I’ve come to a resolute conclusion,” he said as he brushed a strand of her golden hair that had fallen free behind her ear.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I’ve no interests in saying goodbyes to you, Emma. Not now, not ever.”

Killian only had a fleeting moment where he could watch those words sink in for Emma before she was pulling down for a kiss, but he’d seen all he needed to in that brief window. There was that same level of love and adoration clear as day in her green eyes, and the kiss they shared went from sweet confirmation to hungry and needy faster than it should. Soon enough Killian was forgetting where they were, moving her closer to her desk with the goal of taking off some of the edge they were both feeling. But though they’d obviously indulged in some questionable work place activities before, things here were different and Killian never wanted to complicate Emma’s life at her office in anyway, even if fighting to pull back was a test of his control he almost didn’t win.

“If we don’t stop now, we might not get to that lunch I promised you, and I hate to see you go without grilled cheese.”

Emma’s laugh filled the space between them and she agreed that they should probably go. Killian could still see the want to make more of this in her eyes, but he reasoned that if they waited now, he could use that want to his benefit later and convince her to let them see each other tonight too. After her reaction to his confession on goodbyes, he hoped he might be so lucky.

Once back out in the main showroom and headed towards the front doors, Killian felt his excitement for lunch growing. They weren’t going anywhere special, but there was this small diner that Emma had shown him a few weeks back, which was a place they both enjoyed and which provided a level of comfort he was looking forward to. Yet before they could depart to find that quiet moment, something caught Killian’s attention outside.

“Oh bloody hell,” Killian muttered and his words prompted Emma to look through the glass windows outside.

“Is that…?” she trailed off, likely not believing what the two of them were bearing witness to.

“My headstrong, fool-in-love brother? Aye. Strap in love, I think we’re in for something here.”

Killian and Emma stood there watching as Liam went past the main door, presumably to the specified bakery entrance next door with a huge bundle of flowers in his arms and all they needed to do was share the briefest look to reach an agreement: there was no way either of them was going to miss this. They moved quickly towards the bakery from inside where they were, running into Ruby and Mary Margaret as they did.

“Jeez where’s the fire?” Ruby asked but Emma just shook her head and grabbed Ruby’s hand, pulling her along as Ruby grabbed Mary Margaret and dragged her too.

“I don’t think your nosey ass is going to want to miss this,” Emma claimed as she propelled her friends forward and prompted a low chuckle from Killian. The colorful statement was hardly wrong, and as someone who had lived through a few big moments in this shop, he knew Ruby (and Mary Margaret) would be loathed to miss a confrontation like the one that was about to happen between his brother and Elsa.

“Excuse me?” Ruby asked, but the rest of her reply died on her lips when the four of them reached the doorway that stood between the bakery and the rest of the boutique. Coming through the doors outside right now was Liam, appearing out of breath like he’d run the whole way from his office to see Elsa.

At first the object of Liam’s affection didn’t notice his sudden appearance in her shop as she was focused intently in the back where she was working on some sugar detailing. But the indication that something was afoot came when a hush fell over the entire bakery. Even the other customers seemed to pick up something happening, with all gazes turning to Liam, and then there was the dead give away of Ruby’s whispered yell to Elsa.

“Hey, Els!” She said loud enough for everyone to hear, though by Killian’s estimation the only person who didn’t notice was Liam who was too transfixed by Elsa to notice anything around him. Elsa looked to Ruby and then followed her gaze to Liam, her face going pink as soon as she saw him.

“Liam? What are you doing here?” Elsa asked, her hands running over the apron she wore in a nervous gesture as she approached the counter. They were still separated but both of them were as close as the layout of the bakery would allow and their body language hinted that if there were no barrier they’d be closer even than that.

“I’m here to tell you my intentions,” Liam responded and as soon as that word left his mouth, Emma reached for Killian’s hand. He tore his gaze away from the scene before him to catch her eyes, and in those green pools was the unspoken thought that this was because of him. Liam had taken his urging to make a move and state his wants rather literally and as far as grand gestures went, this was a rather interesting one to choose.

“You’re – I’m sorry what?” Elsa asked, clearly not believing him. She was blushing even more now, but Killian had to admit there was something more than embarrassment on display here. Yes, if he was right there was definitely something warmer under Elsa’s shock and surprise.

“I think I love you.”

Bloody hell! Killian thought to himself and he didn’t know whether to slap his hand over his eyes and stop watching or to applaud his brother. It was a ballsy play that was for sure (especially considering the fact that he’d never so much as taken Elsa out), but to take a risk like that in this public of a setting… well a man had to be pretty damn sure of his affections to get to this kind of level.

“Oh my god,” Mary Margaret whispered at the same time that Ruby replied “I knew it!”

“You… what?” Elsa asked, clearly having come no closer to getting her thoughts sorted out than she had been a second ago. Now she looked even more flustered and with good reason. Killian’s brother hadn’t managed any kind of finesse in this. He was blunt as ever and yet the earnestness on display was truly something.

Never in his life had Killian seen Liam this way. He wasn’t showing weakness per se, and he still took up a huge presence in the shop not just from his size but his general aura, but there was this level of awkwardness that Liam never carried. He was gruff not because of disinterest, but because he cared. Truly he cared so much that he’d just admitted his love for a woman he barely knew in front of at least two-dozen strangers, his brother, and Elsa’s closest friends.

“I know you hate me. I know you think that the two of us can’t work and you’ve your reasons for that, but I’m going to prove you wrong. I’m going to show you that I’m the man for you Elsa, and I don’t care how long it takes. I’m going to make you love me somehow because you’re it for me. You were it from the moment I saw you and… well that’s just it.”

As if the delivery of his sentiments wasn’t wild enough, Liam then seemed set to leave not two seconds after he dropped his confession. He turned around as if to go and then realized he still had the flowers in hand. They weren’t a kind Killian recognized, but Emma’s whisper gave him some perspective.

“They’re Bellflowers, like the tattoo on Elsa’s wrist. He sent her about a billion off them last week too.”

Truth was Killian had never noticed that flower adorning Elsa’s arm before. The only tattoo with a similar placement he’d ever noticed was Emma’s, but now he took a look and saw that both Ruby and Mary Margaret had flowers on their wrists as well. He imagined the blossoms had personal meaning to each woman but that the placement had been specific so as to tie the friends together.

“These are for you,” Liam said, handing the arrangement to Elsa who took them gladly and then Liam left them all stunned by going with his first instinct and leaving. It took a second for Elsa to realize what he was doing, but when it hit her she was in motion. Dropping the flowers to the counter and running after him. Meeting up just outside.

Now, usually Killian wouldn’t consider himself the nosiest person. He liked a good story, sure, but he didn’t usually go out of his way to spy on people. Yet he reasoned in this moment that continued watching was fine and perhaps even divinely ordained, since the breeze outside had the door move back so forcefully at Elsa’s exit that she triggered the function to keep the door open. Now their voices wafted through despite their being outside, and the whole bakery filled with people had an unspoken contract to keep quiet and listen in.

“Hey wait!” Elsa yelled and Liam stopped turning around and facing a slightly pissed off Elsa. He looked actually afraid at her anger but he stood there taking it all the same. Elsa came to stand before him and poked his chest before speaking her mind. “You can’t just go around yelling at women that you love them and walk away!”

“I don’t go around yelling to women that I love them. I’ve only ever said it to you!” Liam tossed back.

“Oh he is good,” Ruby acknowledged and Emma squeezed Killian’s hand.

“He’s alright. He could use a few lessons in keeping his cool though.” Emma’s words were clearly aimed as a compliment to Killian and he felt his chest puff out at her words.

“And why is that exactly?” Elsa asked, bringing everyone’s attention back outside.

“Why is what?” Liam asked his voice raised to match hers.

“Why did you come in here tell me you love me and then leave? You didn’t even ask me on a date I mean who does that?! You’re going about this all out of order and…”

Elsa was waving her hands and then at some point she stopped, looking at Liam and muttering something they all couldn’t hear, though Killian guessed it was something along the lines of ‘fuck it.’ Then she stepped to Liam and pulled him down for a kiss that at first stunned Liam. It only took a second though for him to meet her and make this a show for everyone inside.

“That’s it!” Ruby said in pseudo anger. “I’m telling Graham in no uncertain terms that I’m demanding a grand gesture. I can’t be the only one who doesn’t get this. I want my work day crashed by love like everyone else!”

Emma and Killian both laughed at Ruby’s words and now Liam and Elsa had broken apart and were whispering to each other outside. Killian took that as his sign to fully break away and at least pretend at giving them privacy. To do so he focused his attentions on Emma, wanting to know her mind in this moment.

“So, all in all what did you think, love?” Killian asked with amusement and Emma leaned into him, her words rich and warm and said in that lower voice that spoke to her being perfectly content.

“It’s nice to see other people finding love when we already have it,” Emma said and Killian grinned at that before the shrieks of excitement came from Ruby and Mary Margaret. Killian wondered if perhaps the two women weren’t fusing their excitement both for Elsa and for Emma in one reaction.

“Wait, love?!” Mary Margaret asked.

“You told a man you love him?! And you didn’t even tell us?!” Ruby yelled, filling the whole space and drawing everyone in the bakery’s eyes to them but Emma only rolled her eyes and pulled on Killian’s hand to lead him through the shop for their exit.

“Yup. And no I am not canceling my lunch to tell you all about it. You can both survive the hour. Just go fuss over Elsa until I get back.”

Emma’s friends seemed consoled by that objective and Killian breathed a sigh of relief. He liked Emma’s friends plenty, and he remained to this day entirely grateful that Emma had found people like this to have in her life, but they had just narrowly evaded a whole drawn out conversation and he would have been heavily disappointed if he missed out on lunch with Emma.

“Quite a day we’re having,” Killian joked when they stepped outside and took a look at Elsa and Liam who were still standing down the way. Instead of interrupting though, they headed hand in hand in the other direction towards the diner.

“And it’s just getting started,” Emma quipped, bringing Killian’s eyes to her. “Come on, don’t pretend you weren’t going to ask to see me again tonight.”

Killian replied that he would never dare to tell such a lie as he brought Emma in closer and rejoiced in the fact that they both saw things the same way. And with that they set forth into what would no doubt be a glorious rest of the day, because they would spend most of it together with the promise of so much more to come.

Post-Note: In case any of you are looking for some insight into my writing process, I would say that for every typical chapter in a story I write I map about 50 percent of what I am going to do and then wing the rest of it when I finally sit down to write it. This chapter though was a little different. All I knew was I wanted Liam to be super nervous/cute/weird about confronting Elsa and for everyone else to watch and enjoy the fluffiness. This though all came from the heart and it has left me with lots of feels and a renewed love of this story. I hope that you guys enjoyed this fun little romp, and there will of course be more of this story coming soon. Thank you all for reading and I hope you have a great rest of your day!

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